


Class

by ALittleBitofThis



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Feels, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Iron Dad, Panic Attacks, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, spider son
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 06:59:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14971592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALittleBitofThis/pseuds/ALittleBitofThis
Summary: After the events of Infinity War, Peter tries to cope with his death and resurrection. However, the lack of sleep and excess of anxiety make it more than challenging. On a normal day at school, Peter falls into a full-scale panic attack. Angst and fluff ensue.





	Class

Peter grabbed the phone out of Ned’s hands. “No way!  _That’s_  the lightsaber you got?” He zoomed into the picture. “Oh, we are so having a lightsaber fight later.” **  
**

Ned beamed, “Fine, but I get to use it.” Peter gave him a pouty face for a moment but replaced it with a dorky grin. It was good to be back. It had been four weeks since he and Tony got back to Earth. Between working with fellow Avengers to quell chaos from the snap and making up school work from literally being in space, the teenager had just now regained some semblance free time. He passed the phone back as his physics teacher started class.

Ned and Peter settled in with their notebooks as he started a lecture about centripetal acceleration. Peter’s notebook was worn. The middle of each page held a mixture of neat, organized notes intermingled with doodles of spiders and superheroes. However, the notebook had suffered at the hands of the elements through the numerous times some crook dumped Peter’s backpack, the edges of each page softly frayed from rainstorms. Peter really ought to stop leaving it in dingy alleyways while he swung around. The friendly neighborhood Spider-Man’s budget for backpacks was not equally friendly.

The class they were attending taught advanced physics, and the teacher easily transitioned to orbital and spaceship applications of the rotational force. Albeit not by choice, Peter felt more than experienced with spaceships, so the monotonous voice of Mr. Sputen faded into the background. Peter wrote what was on the screen but occasionally reached to his left to draw smiley faces on Ned’s paper- only to be swatted away with a huff of playful annoyance.

“And we saw this design of a ship last semester right here in New York,” The teacher flipped to a picture of donut shaped spaceship from Thanos. The hairs on Peter’s arm shot up. An incessant ringing could be heard some distance away. Crap.

Ned glanced to his right when he heard the pencil clatter onto the desk. Peter had gone as white as a lab coat, eyes glued to the projected image. “Peter?” Ned whispered. The teacher was oblivious, continuing to lecture about the predicted mechanics of the spaceship. Peter was gripping onto the side of said ship. He tightened his fingers around the sleek, tractionless metal plate he’d clutched onto when he boarded. He couldn’t stay here forever. He knew that. The temperature plummeted as rapidly as his stomach, the skyscrapers turning to ants.  He struggled to breathe as his altitude increased. No matter how much air he sucked in, it didn’t seem to help. A warbled voice reached his ears. Maybe Mr. Stark. Or Ned?

“Peter,” Ned said more firmly, putting a hand on his wrist. Peter remembered he was in class and frantically searched for something to ground himself. He stared at the first line of his notes, trying to read it to himself, but it was all gibberish. No, no, no. This was  _not_ happening now. A buzzing sensation started in his fingertips as he squeezed the desk, slowly seeping up from his fingernails. It felt like his hands were asleep.

“I can’t breathe,” Peter finally wheezed. He recognized the burning feeling in his lungs at the lack of oxygen from the thinning atmosphere. His chest suffocated him. Not enough space for the air between his heaving lungs and pounding heart. His vision swirled, mushing all of his surroundings together. He knew people around him were talking, but he couldn’t hear over the grotesque roar of the spinning space monstrosity.

“Take him to the clinic,” Mr. Sputen said when Parker wasn’t responding to his inquiries. Ned nodded, quickly grabbing both their phones off the table. He grabbed Peter’s arm, quietly telling him they were going to the clinic. Lost in his own world, Peter let himself be led into the hallway. He felt a dull throb in his thigh, maybe from bumping into that desk. The sounds of the classroom and the spaceship ceased, and instantly, he was surrounded by the stunning silence of a post-battle Titan.

His Spider-Sense lit up, overriding all his nerves. His body surged with adrenaline as the pins and needles consumed his arms, then his chest, then his waist. Not again. He felt queasiness stirring in his gut. “I don’t feel so good,” He couldn’t stop the words from leaving his lips. Peter latched onto Tony. As his legs gave out, Ned’s eyes widened. Ned barely managed to sit him up against the lockers without banging his head.

“Peter,” Ned shook his shoulder. “Talk to me dude. You’re alright, Peter.” The kid had no idea what was going on. His best friend’s face was pale, his eyes veiled in horror. Sweat slowly consumed his skin.

It was all real. He felt the prickling heat of the sun beating down on his face. The bittersweet smell of the heroes’ sweat mingled with blood permeating the air. Something bad was happening. He didn’t know how he knew; he just sensed it. The dull ache of his muscles rapidly gave way to the pain of what was coming. The weakness spread across his body. He knew he needed to move, but he couldn’t. The weight of a  _truck_  was crushing him. He was going to turn to dust again. Like Drax and Starlord and Strange. He grabbed onto Tony’s shoulder in front of him. “I don’t want to go. Please, Mr. Stark.” He didn’t want to die. Ned instinctively covered Peter’s hand with his own.

Ned’s heart beat out of his chest. What was he supposed to do? Was this some sort of freakout? What if Peter was having a psychotic break? He racked his brain for any information he might’ve read on twitter or snapchat or something. Just reassure him? “You’re not going anywhere. You’re safe, dude.” The words didn’t make it through the high-pitched ringing in Peter’s ears.

“I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go,” Peter gasped, continuing on like a broken record. The orange, dusty environment of Titan blurred as his eyes filled with tears. The tightness in his chest combined with bile rising in his throat, choking him. He could feel his body disintegrating. “Tony,” He whimpered. The idea struck Ned.

“You’re okay. Just hold on,” He quickly grabbed Peter’s phone, holding down the Siri button until he heard the sound. “Call Tony Stark,” He ordered. The phone rang for a while before it finally picked up.

“Hey kid, what’s up?” Tony smiled slightly on his end, relieved to hear from the kid. Peter had swung by the tower several times to socialize with the team and mess with all the tech in the lab, but as the tension from Thanos’ attack decreased, so did his visits. Stark had to admit… he had sorta missed the dorky pop culture references. Consequently, Peter’s call presented a fantastic incentive to excuse himself from this boring company meeting.

“Mr. Stark?” Tony’s eyes narrowed when he didn’t recognize the voice.

“I’m sorry, who is this?” He demanded. How did this person have Peter’s phone? His mind started racing through possibilities of what could’ve happened. Theft? Hacking? Ransom?

“Hi sir. I’m Ned, Peter’s friend. It’s an honor to meet you, but-”

“Why are you calling me?” Stark interrupted.

“It’s Peter. Something’s up with him. We were in class and he went pale and started hyperventilating and he keeps saying he doesn’t want to go. He said your name, so I thought I’d call you because y’know, it might be a superhero thing, but I don’t know what to do so I thought maybe you would know. Cuz you know, superheroes help other superheroes, and honestly, it’s such an honor to just be-” Ned began to ramble until Tony cut him off again. The mixed voices in Mr. Stark’s background faded from the phone call as Tony moved outside. He recognized those words.

“Are you alone?” Stark asked firmly.

“We’re in the hallway. No one else is,” Ned responded. Peter was still muttering to himself in desperation. He stared at his hand clutching Iron Man’s shoulder, fearing it would turn to dust at any moment.

“Put me on speaker.” The student quickly obliged, letting Stark know when he was on speakerphone. The man was moving towards the first secluded spot he could find.

“Kid,” Tony said. “Peter, can you hear me? It’s Tony Stark. You know me.” No acknowledgment came from the youngest Avenger, but on Titan, the soothing voice penetrated the ringing silence. Still quivering, Peter raised his eyes to meet Tony’s. “Can he hear me?”

“I think so, sir. He stopped talking,” Ned said. He glanced around the hallway to make sure they were still alone.

“You’re having an anxiety attack. None of it is real, I promise. You’re alright,” Tony continued. Peter fought to find the air for a response.

“M-Mr.Stark?” He asked after a long moment. The teenager was burning up, his shirt drenched in sweat already.

“That’s right, kid. It’s me,” Tony assured.

“I don’t want to go. _Please._ ” His chest shook with each shuddering breath as he fought back the tears. He needed help. He didn’t want to die again. Peter blinked furiously to clear his eyes, the vision of Titan fading to gray.

“You don’t have to go anywhere, Peter. You’re safe. You’re alright. Thanos is gone, remember? You helped defeat him, yeah?” Peter tensed when the purple image popped into his head, but it gave way to images of their final battle.

“Yeah. I-I remember,” He managed.

“Good. Do you know where you are?” The gentle voice asked. Peter’s first thought was Titan, but when he touched the ground with his free hand to feel the hot dirt, he found cool tile instead. Peter clenched his eyes shut for a moment, leaning his head back to find a metallic surface instead of rubble. He reluctantly reopened his eyes. The hallway was veiled in rainbow static, and he couldn’t focus on any one thing, but he thought he knew.

“I’m at school. I think,” Peter let himself sag against the lockers. Then, A thought struck him. “What if it’s the reality stone?!”  The adrenaline surged back. He could still be there and Thanos could kill him again and… and… His air left his lungs as quickly as it had come when he remembered how real everything had looked with the deceitful stone. Peter’s body wanted to run. He didn’t know where, but he had to go somewhere.

“No, no, no,” Tony said quickly. He stepped into the alley and activated his suit. “Scarlet Witch destroyed it. Along with the others. Peter, remember? You’re doing good. Focus on what you know. You still with me? Where. Are. You?” He repeated his question very slowly. Peter withdrew from Ned, hand shaking. He felt the floor again, trying to ground himself. There were no polished surfaces on Titan. Only Earth had that.

“I am- I’m at school. In the hall.”

“That’s right. You’re not going anywhere. You’re safe.” Tony assured. “Can you say that?”

“I’m safe,” Peter repeated quietly. His vision was starting to clear up again, but things were still a bit surreal.

“Yeah,” Tony nodded automatically as he flew, even though Peter wouldn’t be able to see it.

“I want you to focus on something. Grab your friends’ hand.” Ned held out the hand not holding the phone up. It took a long moment, but a trembling hand lightly rested upon his friend’s.

“He is,” Ned reported. Whatever Mr. Stark was doing seemed to be calming Peter down, so he was staying quiet and helping wherever he could.

“Okay. Peter, I want you to take a deep breath in. When you breathe out, squeeze his hand. Keep focusing on that until you’ve calmed down, okay?” He couldn’t remember the other kid’s name. “Just keep guiding him through breathing exercises until he’s okay, and then get him to the nurse. We’ll go from there.” Tony ended the call, focusing his efforts on not flying into any buildings as he remembered his own anxiety attacks after New York.

Ned listened, despite knowing he was way out of his league here. Fearing he’d do it wrong the whole time, he helped Peter breathe in and out. The squeezing of his hand started off as a nearly unnoticeable touch, but as Ned talked him through it, it got firmer. When Peter’s hyperventilating finally ceased, Ned slowly pulled away. “You okay?”

“Dunno,” Peter sighed, his body finally beginning to relax. He felt exhausted, but at the same time, he still felt in danger.

“Do you need anything?” Ned asked.

“Don’t think so.”

“Okay, let’s get you where you can lay down then,” Ned offered. He stood and extended a hand to help him up. After slowly bringing his knees close to his chest, Peter locked wrists with him, letting Ned pull him up and sling his arm across his shoulder. He wobbled slightly but managed to stay up. Ned waited a moment, letting Peter take the first step forward. Leaning on him for support, the pair slowly made their way to the clinic. As they reached the corner of the hallway, Peter felt his stomach churning like it did when he’d eaten too much butter. Suddenly, he stumbled away from Ned, grabbing one of the trashcans and vomiting.

* * *

Peter sat very still, staring down at the water in the little plastic cup. The nurse had encouraged him to drink it, but the boy had only managed a few measly sips. He just didn’t want it. His stomach ached and maybe food was what he needed, but he felt like such shit that he wasn’t willing to risk anything that might make him feel worse. He pulled the blanket he’d been given a little tighter around his shoulders. Peter wanted to wrap himself in a cocoon and just never come back out. He still felt tense, and his ‘spidey sense”- as Ned had dubbed it- insistently reminded him that danger could come at any time. His eyes traveled to said friend when Ned looked out the doorway in shock. Peter was confused until he saw Tony walk in.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter jumped to his feet. He wasn’t weak. Tony shot him a look that Peter couldn’t decipher. Ned, meanwhile, gazed at the man in awe.

“Kid, sit down,” Tony said. There was no reason in hell that kid needed to be up and moving any more than necessary. Peter plopped back down in relief. Oh man, it was a lot of effort to stand right now.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, looking away. He knew Mr. Stark already saw him as ridiculously young. He could handle himself, and he wanted Mr. Stark to understand that. He was so screwed.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Tony assured. He took a deep breath. “Can you give us a few minutes?” He asked. The nurse agreed but told Tony he needed to get Parker to eat or drink something. Once the door had shut, Tony grabbed a chair, facing it in the opposite direction and sitting so he straddled the back. He crossed his arms over the back of the chair.

“Okay, kid. What happened?” Tony asked firmly. Peter still averted his gaze, staring intently at the wired lines of the trash can.

“I don’t know,” He responded. Tony raised his eyebrows and shifted uneasily. He honestly wasn’t quite sure how to handle this.

“You sure? You’re a smart kid, Peter. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me anything” He prodded. “Why did you spazz out?” Peter squirmed uncomfortably under the neutral but unyielding stare. It was silent for a long while.

“My science teacher showed us a picture of the ship,” He finally blurted out. “The donut one.”

“And then?”

“I just overreacted, okay? I’m fine,” Peter insisted. His heart was starting to beat faster again. Not because of the ship this time, but because he didn’t want Tony Stark to think he wasn’t strong enough to be Spider-Man. What if he took the suit away? He was not losing that again.

“Peter, what did you see?” Tony questioned. Peter took a deep breath, not answering immediately. How could he respond without seeming like a liability? He couldn’t do much more than tell the truth, but he didn’t want to. He was an Avenger! Things like this didn’t happen to Avengers. He sighed in defeat, knowing Mr. Stark wouldn’t let him get away with hiding it.

“I saw the ship. Not the picture, but the same way I saw it when I hung onto the side. Then we were on Titan. And everyone was- y’know..,” He trailed off, shuddering as he thought of it. “I was… worried it would happen again. I didn’t want that. Sorry.” Tony nodded in understanding. He said nothing in case the kid wanted to continue or give more details, but the silence actually stressed Peter out.

“I’m fine, okay? Why are you even here? You don’t need to be here. I’m handling things just fine,” He hissed. “I’ve got it. I’m good. 100%. Prime condition.” Without thinking, Tony reached out, two fingers on the boy’s chin to tilt his head up. Peter stopped talking. Tony inspected his face, noting the dark circles under weary eyes- eyes bloodshot in a way far too familiar to the man. He noted the increasing pressure on his hand as the kid instinctively leaned into the touch.

“Are you having trouble sleeping?” He asked. Peter’s heart sank. Was it that obvious? He pulled away and tossed a hand up in frustration.

“I- I… yeah, I am. But it’s just side effects of coming back to life. I promise you, Mr. Stark. I’m fine,” Peter reiterated, forcing a smile “As fine as Kevin Bacon in Footloose.”

“Man, I really need to teach you how to lie, kid,” Tony chuckled. Peter clenched his teeth, anxiety swelling. He was going to get benched again. He desperately searched Tony’s face for disappointment or something. He was just looking at him with those same eyes.

“I’m fine. Why aren’t you listening? You never listen to me,” He growled, his voice rising. “I don’t have any issues. I’m perfectly sane enough to be in the field, and I’m over Thanos. I don’t know why you-”

“PETER,” Stark barked, shutting the kid up. He stood up, running a hand through his hair as he paced away from him. “Look, I had…. No, have… PTSD.” Peter’s eyes softened.

“Oh,” He mumbled. “But… you’re Iron Man.”

“Yes, I am,” Tony returned to Peter, putting a hand on his shoulder. “We see a lot of nasty shit out there. After the Battle of New York, I was a hot mess for a long time. Peter, it makes sense to be traumatized by what we deal with. It is  _not_  a sign of weakness.” The kid finally met his eyes, searching for any hint of anger.

“I’m sorry Tony,” Peter frowned. He’d been researching what his symptoms could be, but he knew he would be benched if he mentioned them.

“Damn it. Peter, for the last time, there is nothing to apologize for. You had a flashback. These things happen, and you shouldn’t feel guilty. I avoided dealing with my issues for years. You’re not making the same mistake, got it?” He squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “We will work through this.”

“Please don’t take away the suit,” Spider-Man pleaded. His mentor just smirked.

“Pfft. Please. My suits are part of what got me through it. Besides, you’re a hell of a lot safer in that suit than running around in a sweatshirt and tights.” Peter smiled in relief, already feeling a weight lift from his shoulders.

“C’mere kid,” Tony wrapped his arms around him. Peter hesitated, making sure it wasn’t a trick before he leaned in. His arms slowly came up to rest on the man’s back. “This one’s a hug.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff to come in the next (and final) chapter!


End file.
